The Fool That Left Home Without Boots

I've been thinking about this post for a long time now, and I think it will probably be the second to last that I post on this blog. I'm planning on adding something like an epilogue, or some final thoughts, after I've had some time back home to collect myself, but this will be the last post from abroad.

There are two things I want to address in this post: the first new word I learned here, and the most valuable position I have acquired in my time abroad.

I'll start with a story first though.

When I arrived here in Moscow, I already had two years of university level Russian classes, and felt that despite the fact that I certainly wasn't fluent, I wouldn't have much trouble getting around with the level of Russian I was arriving with. I was very, very wrong. When I flew into the airport, it was already around 1 in the morning, I had been awake for over 24 hours, and probably would have struggled to function in English, and was failing miserable at trying to find my taxi driver. I ended up paying $10 to a stranger to call my cab driver and figure out where he was, and another $15 to the pre-paid cab driver for "parking fees" since I was late (I later found out these fees were made up). Saying that I could barely communicate with my host, or anyone else in Russian, would be an exaggeration, and I spent most of my time in class staring blankly at my professors hoping something would click eventually, and dreading the nightly dinner conversations with my host that always left me feeling exhausted.

After about of week of this, I finally plucked up enough courage to ask my host about where I could buy some boots, because I thought that buying them here in Russia would save me some room in my suitcase, and also ensure that I got something that could stand up to Russian winter. After spending far more time explaining what I needed than it should have taken my host finally looked at me and used a word I had heard once or twice already.

"Дурак"
(Dy - rak)

I asked her what it meant, but couldn't understand, so I looked it up in the dictionary that I had brought with me, and found that it meant "fool, or idiot."

I did my best not to take that personally, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't a bit of a shock to me. I've come to realize that my host is just honest, and she was absolutely right. Only an idiot would come to Russia without boots. It wasn't just the boots though, I didn't understand so many things when I first got here, and I didn't even realize the sheer scope of the things I had no experience with until I had been thrown headfirst into them. Getting scammed twice in an airport, getting into a yelling match to get a pack of gum, having to work as a terrible translator to help my friend explain why he wasn't interested in marrying a girl we had only met an hour early in a club, really the list could go on forever.

I ended up buying a pair of boots for myself when we were in St Petersburg so I could give back the boots another student had lent me for a few days. They were a well made pair of black leather boots from Germany, and they ran me $200. At the time I was upset that I had to drop most of my budget for the trip on a pair of boots, but that's the price you pay for being unprepared I guess.

These boots have become something very precious to me now though. Something much more than a pair of boots. I wore them almost every day for eight months straight, and I'm not just talking about eight months of normal use. In that eight months I was in 10 countries, I spent Christmas eve in a rock'n'roll bar in Prague, and New Years in the heart of Berlin. I saw the Eiffel Tower, the Duomo, and what remains of the Berlin Wall. I learned to say "Cheers!" in several new languages and saw places I had only seen in books before.

Some steps were harder than others, but every step I took in those boots took me somewhere very special. I've explored the streets of Moscow, and St Petersburg in the dead of night, I've crossed borders, and seen totally new worlds all while wearing these boots. After all this time, and all the work I've put them through, the soles are wearing out, the heels on both feet are practically gone, the leather doesn't shine like it used to, and there are little holes that let in water and get my socks wet, but they have so much life in them.

They took me every step of the way, literally, from a дурак who didn't even bother to bring boots with him to Russia, to who I am now. I certainly still feel like an idiot at times, but in my time abroad I have grown so much. I've had the opportunity to experience things most people only dream of. I've found that I'm strong enough to live in a foreign country, I'm able to talk with both my professors and my host, and I've come to understand a lot of things about myself that I never knew before.

All the things I've seen, all the places I've been, all the people I've met, and all the things I can't put into words, they've put a life into those boots that were not there when I walked out of the shop in them in St Petes. When I bought them, I was mad that I had to spend so much money on a pair of boots. Now I see that the problem wasn't foot ware, it was that I was naive enough to think I didn't need them before I got there. I was a fool, but I've been able to live through that, and learn from the pain and idiocy I subjected myself to.

When I landed in September, I didn't just arrive in Moscow, I arrived about as far outside of my comfort zone as is geographically possible. I've grown in that discomfort. I've woken up in some ways to the dumb things I tend to do, and I've come to embrace the things that are good about me, and that I never gave myself credit for.

Every step of my journey was taken in these boots, and they have come to represent the path I've walked in the last nine months from a kid who had spent the majority of his life in one place, living comfortable, to someone who has had the incredible opportunity to see a good chunk of Europe, and to live in a country that is about as foreign as foreign could have been for him. I walked down the path of discomfort, had an adventure, met people I will never forget, and grew to have a much greater understanding of myself, and how I view the world.

Every step of that journey was taken in these:

They're falling apart, but they only need to get me through one last trip. This Saturday, I'll be walking off the plane in Denver Colorado in these boots. It will be the eleventh country I wear them in, and I will finally be wearing them home.  

Victory Day

This last Thursday was Victory Day (День Победы), one of the largest celebrations in Russia. Every year Russia celebrates the end of The Great Patriotic War on May 9 when Russian soliders raised a Soviet flag above the Reichstag in Berlin. I had heard this was a holiday worth seeing while I was here in Moscow, but I was completely blown away by what an incredible experience this ended up being. To give you some idea of just how big of a deal this is, the government spends over a million USD every year to pay for planes to spray chemicals into clouds that prevents it from raining. They literally manufacture nice weather for this event every year so that the sun always shines on Victory Day. Just in case you don't believe (I won't be offended, I didn't believe at first either) here's a short article: The Moscow News. I'm convinced this can't be good for peoples' health, but no one here seems too concerned.

I started off my morning by watching the hour long military parade from home (it's nearly impossible to get into Red Square to watch in person without actually being a veteran) and enjoying my breakfast. I won't go into too much detail about the parade itself, because I hope you know what a parade looks like, but it was impressive to say the least. Lots of fanfare and cool military tech rolling through, and flying over, the Kremlin.

After getting dressed I ran out the door to meet with a friend and go to Gorky Park and see what the festivities would be like there. The first thing that I was immediately struck by was the massive amounts of people on the streets. I live near the main building of the college's campus, as well as near the university metro station, so it's not surprising for there to be people around where I live, but the sidewalks were packed like I had never seen before. Even thought I'm aware of Moscow being a city of 15 million, I'm always amazed at the sheer number of bodies that can show up in one place here. After making my way upstream in the flow of bicyclists and other people enjoying the awesome/chemically enhanced weather, I met up with Nerea, hopped on a metro, and we made our way to the park.

As we were walking up to the main entrance of the park we actually started to see some of the veterans of the Great Patriotic War that this day was, in large part, meant to celebrate. I was surprised to see Russians coming up to these veterans, shaking their hands, thanking them, and often giving them flowers. I knew that Russians had a great deal of respect for those who fought against the Nazis, but I was not expecting them to break the ice of their normal, indifferent street mode in such large numbers to talk with the men and women (the Soviets allowed women to serve in some combat roles as well, and there were several older women who had chest fulls of medals) who had served. You could almost taste the gratitude, the sense of pride in their nation, floating through the air. This was especially evident when we reached the stairs up to the main gate, and saw an older man standing atop the foundation for a street light, waving a Soviet flag. This guy couldn't have been taller than 4'6", but the rows of medals on his chest were probably only six inches shorter than he was. A man and his young son asked to take a picture with him, and the old man helped pull the boy up as his father lifted himself up next to the veteran for their picture. You could just see on his face the sense of admiration towards this little old man, and that he was thrilled to be able to impart that on his son too.

Once we cleared the security checkpoint and made it into the park we could see that there was activity in every direction. Directly to the right of the entrance there was a group dancing and preforming acrobatics, a little further down the way was a group of people standing around a man with an accordion singing, and everywhere on the grass were big orange bean bags for people to lay out on. We strolled around the park some more and saw several more spontaneous choirs, a military band preforming, a man-made beach in the middle of the park, and ice cream stands every 10 feet or so.

After a break in the shade to enjoy some Granny Smith apples, we strolled back to the entrance to the park. We had already been there for about two hours, but we didn't really have any other plans until later when there was going to be fireworks near the university. I went back to my place, had some dinner, and then went to meet with Eddy, another American, to go watch the fireworks. We had planned on meeting up with other people once we got there, but there were so many people there that there was no hope of meeting up with anyone, and our cellphones weren't working anyway. It seemed that there were so many people there that you couldn't even get a cell signal out into the air.

Eddy hadn't eaten anything all day, so we went to a food cart near where the fireworks were going to be to get hotdogs. The line was long, and in classic Russian fashion, hardly functional. We were worried we might not be able to get to a good spot before the fireworks started, and we were worried for good reason, kinda.

The first firework went off right above our heads like a bomb. There had been no warning, and just about everyone around us ducked for cover. While we were rightly concerned about not getting food before the show started, but we couldn't have been in a better place. Standing in line for a hotdog turned out to be the best seat in the house. I've never been so close to fireworks before. Every time they fired off you could feel the blast hit you in the chest, and again when the fireworks exploded in the air, like drumming on your rib cage. Everywhere around us we could hear shouts of excitement, and people screaming "forward Russia!"

Once the show was over, the crowd cleared out, Eddy got his long sought after hotdog, and we were finally able to get enough cell service to call another friend, Mike, about meeting up for an after party. We went back to Ed's dorm, enjoyed some Johnny Walker, and listen to Yo-Yo Ma to get into the party mode, because we're a classy bunch. We ended up leaving after 1am, so we had to take a cab to the center, but we were able to meet up with Mike, and another friend, Kate, and made our way to a nearby bar called The Old School Pub.

The good vibes that had been going on all day carried over into the bar, and everyone was dancing away, and having a blast. We ended up staying there until after the sun had come up. We took a metro back to the main building, grabbed some breakfast, and then I made my way home.

Victory Day was probably one of the longest days I've had here in Russia, but it was equally as enjoyable. It was awesome to soak up the sun, see people smile, shake the hands of people who had fought in WWII, watch as fireworks exploded to life right above my head, and party the night away with friends until the sun came back up over Moscow.

In other news, I start exams next week, which I will undoubtably crush like last semester, we were unfortunately unable to go to Yaroslavl, and I've been trying to draw and write more to get that creativity going. I can't say I'm much of an artist, but I did draw up what I would like to get for my next tattoo, so that's pretty exciting for me.

Wish me luck on exams! I'll see you all before you know it!

Big Changes

Three weeks from today I will be flying back home to Denver after nine months abroad. 21 days remaining in what has been, without a doubt, the single most incredible experience of my life. I'll save reminiscing for after I've left though, there's still so much left to do, and I don't want to take a moment of my time left for granted.

Things changed pretty drastically for me a few weeks ago when Nastya broke up with me. I have to admit, I was really taken off guard. I guess I knew it would have to happen at some point, but I never saw it going down the way it did.

To Nastya, I only have this to say: Thank you, so very, very much. Without you, this would have been a completely different experience for me. You showed me Moscow in a way only a Russian could, and, more importantly, you showed me parts of myself I hadn't known. You showed me the good sides of myself that I never gave myself enough credit for, and the selfish parts of myself that I let get the better of me at times. I think I've grown immensely through knowing you, and being with you. I know things ended poorly, but I wish you only the best in what I'm sure will be a very exciting, and fulfilling future for you.

Things were pretty rough at first, if I'm honest with myself. I had devoted so much of my time to my relationship that I had neglected other people around me, and I found myself feeling very much alone after the break up. It was like when I first arrived here all over again. I felt like I didn't know anyone, and I was alone in a city that will grind you to dust, if you let it.

Something had changed though.

In the past, when I had felt lonely, I had often fallen into depression, and self-loathing. I have a bad habit of blaming myself for things I have no control over, and thinking myself weak for not being able to change them. Anyone who has had the distinct displeasure of being around me when I'm depressed knows I can be pretty miserable.

This was different. In my moment of loneliness, there was something else inside of me that I hadn't felt before.

Strength.

I would be lying, if I said I hadn't been hurt, and that I didn't feel down for a bit, but despite the fact that I felt alone, it didn't make me feel worthless. Despite the fact that I felt that I was, in part, responsible for how things ended, I felt resolve to improve myself, rather than the need to criticize myself. Rather than sitting alone, stewing in my own dark emotions, I threw myself back into life, head first, and started taking every opportunity that came my way to try something different.

I was surprised by how quickly I bounced back. It seemed everywhere I felt I had neglected a friendship, I found instead a person waiting with open arms to welcome me into their lives, and what they were doing.

The experience now is a lot different being single, but I'm enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. I've been going out a lot, enjoying the nightlife, and I've met a lot of awesome people just in the past few weeks.

Now we're on a twelve day break from classes, and I've made a list of things I want to get done while I'm still here in Moscow. We're now five days into the break, and I haven't even started the list because I've been busy doing things I never expected to do, which is actually a very nice feeling.

This week I was invited to the Russian equivalent of a BBQ with some friends and had an absolute blast. I think there was about 25 of us altogether, and we went out onto a peninsula in one of the lakes around Moscow, set up a grill, a stereo, and picnic blankets, and had ourselves a great time. The weather was phenomenal, with the sun shining down on us while we listened to someone's iPod play through this huge, 80's style boombox. The meat would get grilled up a few plate fulls at a times, and because there were so many of us, we would only be able to each eat about one chunk of kebab at a time. Normally, I'm not one who enjoys waiting long stretches of time for just a little bit of food, but the time spent waiting was filled with great conversation, laughter, and toasts to the long awaited spring's arrival. It worked out perfectly. We were all talking, and enjoying each other's company when a plate of food would come up, we would all quickly grab our piece, savor it for a moment, and get back to our conversations without missing a beat.

I can't say the day after was quite as fantastic for me though. I spent most of it wrapped around a 2L water bottle I keep in my room, cringing at any noise that got above the volume of a loud whisper, but I did get the chance to watch a few movies I had been wanting to see again. I always forget how much I like Scott Pilgram Vs the World. It may have been filmed in Canada Land, but it's still alright with me. I always seem to find another level to connect with it when I watch, which is something I can only say of a few films. When Scott walks out of what you think will be the final battle with the literal embodiment of his negativity talking to his nega-self about getting brunch, I couldn't help but laugh. None of us are perfect, but it's good to cut ourselves some slack from time to time.

I also was able to go to see The Place Beyond the Pines with my friend Nerea in an actually theater here in Russia, which was super exciting for me. For anyone who hasn't heard about this film, I would definitely recommend it. As Rob so eloquently summed it up for me, "Kids need dads."That's probably the best anyone could summarize the film in three words, but it was a dark, and beautiful story about fathers and sons. I wasn't expecting the direction the film went at all, but I was very pleasantly surprised. As someone who respects no man greater than his father, it resonated with me on a lot of levels.

Some of us are hoping to travel to Yaroslavl next weekend for a few days, after the Victory Day celebrations here in Moscow, so I should have some more interesting stuff to post soon. After that, it's exams, and then I'm headed home to Colorful Colorado, a summer of fun, and my final year of undergrad. Lots of exciting things are coming, so I better get back to them!



And for fun, here are some photos from the park near where I live:

My favorite view in the park

I like the contrast this wall gives to the park. It's such a beautiful place, but it still has this eyesore in the middle of it